Boss Hogg Outlawz - Freestyle (Track 15) lyrics

(*talking*) Yeah, these n***as ain't f**ing with me (yeah) They know that by now though Rayface, (yeah) Run it n***a (oops), Kyleon (yeah) k**a Kyleon, for those that don't know (yeah) All Freestyles 3, the truth is in the booth co*ks**ers [Kyleon] I guess, they didn't expect this To hear a n***a that's reckless, coming from Texas Make a false move, I'm putting a gun to your necklace Better step up your game, and get it back in perspective Didn't boys tell you, I'm the wrong n***a to mess with I got a mean track record, your a** shoulda checked it Like a virus on tracks, I'ma finna infect this Let me put it in lane terms, Kyleon finna wreck this Everything I spit's a hit, you better collect it Go work on your raps, try to perfect it I'm the n***a you jamming, when haters try to eject it But I'm jamming so hard, they can't even try to neglect it By your favorite rapper in Houston, I'm highly respected While your sh**'s weak in the streets, highly rejected Be careful, Kyleon's the wrong n***a to plex with You don't wanna get your neck hit, soon as the tech spit I got a nice aim without thangs, it's a direct hit The game's prolly full of traffic, I'm finna direct it With hard flows, no whip I'm not fin to pyrex it Knocking n***as out the game mayn, they a** finna get sick [Slim Thug] Slim usually the n***a, cats shoot they down low caps at But you ain't never hear me, shoot no down low caps back I'll call you out say your name, and see where your raps at Bring the street to your streets, and see where your straps at Boys better get a map, and see where the North of the map at Cause I ain't hard to find, n***a that's where I rap at That's where I shine where I grind, that's where I stack at I keep it popping in the hood, like I'm a black cat Me and k**a bout scrilla, them other n***as lack that They'd rather chase hoes, so they can pay to go pack that That's why I sick these hoes on em, so I can get back that Slim a hundred percent hustler, these other s**ers act that I keep a Glock on me, matter fact k**a pack that You s**ers get out of line, he gon rat-a-tat that I'm not Lil' O or Big H.A.W.K., but I need you to back-back And give me fifty feet, 'fore I blow you hoes hat back [Sir Daily] Cause Outalwz spit bars, that'll scar the track up Pull out the ESV, and make you park the Lac truck You n***as broke, I'm on the grind to stack bucks Rolling with my gat tucked, cold as Alaska From the ice in my j**els, rims slice when I cruise On top up in this game, I paid the price for my dues So these Hogga, fin to step on toes Treat a mic like a b**h, when we wreck our flows Watch for rocks, my neck all froze I ball 24/7, off the checks I blow So don't think, that I'm easy prey I might pull a K out, squeeze and spray You flat line, if you trying to jack mine Clinch and bust the Mack rounds, bet you haters back down It's rag time, so you fin's to go to sleep I drop bombs on the track, Daily fin's to blow the beat